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Joel M Frye Jan 2016
Take a hit;
hurt a bit
and get over it.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Silver Lining Jun 2015
Two weeks ago I got in an accident while mountain biking. I broke my collar bone and fractured my sternum. Abrasions covered my back, my hip had a puncture wound that turned into a hematoma and was swollen 2inches (I couldn't wear pants for a full week). I hit the ground with such force that air was forced out of my lungs and into the sack around my heart. I spent 18 hours in the ICU and three more days in the hospital after.

A long time ago I crashed. I crashed after you left. My ribs were caving in and making it hurt to breath, my cheeks burned, I swore to god my heart was never going to be okay again. The pain in my chest was incredible. The worst pain I have ever felt was when you left.

I flew over my handle bars two weeks ago and rolled down the mountain and still your absence hurts me more.
JM May 2014
I smell *** everywhere I go.
In the air,
On cafe counters,
At bus stops and on sidewalks.

I taste it in your coy smiles
and backward glances
while he wasn't looking.
Sand and salty skin,
lips with no teeth behind them.
Blood rushes and swollen parts.

I know I will ruin you
from the inside out.
This is how cancer feels.
Love isn't always soft as sighs,
slow and careful cobweb touches.
Sometimes it's mindfucks,
riding crops and hematoma.
Ask napolean about the pyramids
and you will hear the
words of a true ******.

These words, just cockroach
legs swarming around the rotting
chicken bones underneath
your stained mattress,
ancient and ugly,
feeding,
defiling,
consuming.

This now we are sharing,
my now of writing,
your now of reading,
are they the same?



Another day alone
as I decay into
a great big
pile
of nothing
and
somewhere
out there
is a ****
that will
finally
make me
happy.
This now..

There is something more to this...
the dirty poet Dec 2022
today i'm in the ER
trying to treat an 89 year old woman
babbling in an obscure urdu dialect
that baffles her translator
her grandson found her so annoying
he locked her outside last night
in zero degree weather
first pushing her down
giving her a subdural hematoma
well, she is kind of annoying
Ken Young Jun 2014
This is ONLY a Thought About the Strange possibility Of something that Might Happen to Anyone of Us.
What If.... someone spread a rumor about you , or me  and or he or even she, having "passed away" , a rumor that wasn't true.            Selah  ( this means to Stop and think before moving On.)
What if on occasion someone would revive that old rumor and "spread the "lie"(s)...Again ..    Selah   .....   ( stop think )
and after a while yet longer had passed ( Absolutely No Pun intended )
someone found the "old lie" and spread it Until it became viral, Viral , VIRAL.    ...   SELAH  
   what if YOU or I or He or even Ann B. Davis happened to be "pondering the lies and How and or why these thing EVEN start and or how to Stop such things" and while doing things around the yard or the house Even taking a shower , and Thinking about such things.
You or the rest , Fell and suffered a Fatal Sub-dural Hematoma.
....the cause they say of the ACTUAL DEATH today of ANN B. Davis ?
...would you be More Careful about Spreading rumors in the Future,
Selah
Well.... Would You !  SELAH      
                                                     - brain M.O.G.
coment and or any comentary ( welcomed )
JB Claywell Apr 2016
There’s a war on,
ya morons!

Shortages everywhere!

There’s a shortage of
sanity, of clear thought
here!

Hell, they’re rationing
everything these days!

No one will pay your
******* cab fare either,
so, find your own *******
way out of this ditch!

Stick your sonuvabichin’
thumb out, hike your
skirt up, show those
******* some of the pink
stuff.

That’ll get ‘em,
or maybe it won’t,
who knows,
who cares,
who gives a circus-elephant ****?

Not me.

I don’t give a ******* cerebral
hematoma about what happens next.

I just want to get out of here
and see how far I can get before
the radiator blows and my eyebrows
are singed off.

Jesus Christ in a ******* boat!

Ah, **** it!

I’ll see you in the morning.

*
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications; 2016
I'm mad about some inconsequential ****!  But, I'm still mad about it!
Sad Girl Dec 2022
How can this be my purpose
When all it does is hurt this

Body
Mind
And soul
It leaves me filled with holes

I fill them as I can
with nature
Self-nurture
(sometimes man)

Confusion
Illusion
A ******* contusion

Hematoma
when I smell your aroma

Therapy
When you stare at me

But you turn away
And run astray
We’ll get it together
One of these days

When I feel winded
I often pray
But I agreed to this, so
What can I say?

When it feels unbalanced
and filled with malice

A purpose
A purpose
Feeling so worthless
Evenly matched
Picked at and scratched

Mean what you say
Say what you mean
Feeling *****
Feeling unclean

Not good enough
But better than others
Though, if I were to share this,
You’d surely feel smothered

I cannot lecture you
I’m not your mother
So I just laugh and accept
all of the others

Sisters and mixtures
with brothers, oh brother
So many energies
And connections to discover
Are you keeping your body safe?
I wonder

To share with me
Feels like a fee
So you hold yourself back
Which gets me out of whack

Feeling a lack
Of reciprocal energy
Which leads my brain
to make you an enemy

Someone who doesn’t
have my interest at heart
Best or worst,
So it feels like a farce

Am I a “Goddess?”
Or a business asset
I’m multidimensional
I embody many facets

A key to your success
That you dare not undress
I claim no ownership
But it’s me, you possess,

I overthink as I watch you process
the attention from others
So I lay them to rest

If I had a backbone
I could detest
You treat me so opposite
from the energy you express

Maybe you’re protective
of energies that threaten me
Or maybe it would hurt you
if someone else slept with me

I intend to heal,
never cause pain
But this holds me back
Which I cannot sustain
So I must refrain
And soon after, reframe

You came into my life and
Nothing was the same
I can’t allow connections
to drive me insane
I cannot wait around
Until your greatness is ordained

Distracting yourself
During separation
Is the very thing that caused you
Your spiritual castration

This may seem harsh
But the truth comes from spirit
And I’ve seen this before
So I can’t bare to hear it

I’m praying for your strength
Against all odds and towers
I hope to find you someday
When you step into your power

For now I must move
in a different direction
While you make collections
That stunt your *******

When you see the truth
You’ll campaign for your election
I can only hope that by this time
You’ve really learned some lessons

I refuse to be nothing more
than the latest obsession
I hope that you can give me more
As it pertains to affection

And mental stimulation
And physical elation
She needs exhilaration
To fulfill her spiritual gestation

Repressing your emotions
And avoiding heart experiences
Shirking your adherence
Because you are in fear of it
Separates us from our path

And so you’ll miss out
But I cannot sit with you
As you fill us both with doubt
I’m banging the proverbial door
Searching
Searching
for something more

Somewhere
someone
something else
Who cares about me
and my health,
Not my wealth

Whether financial or spiritually
I’m looking for abundance
That will help me feel free

Caught up in this purpose
I find my self stagnant
I’m locking up my heart again
Before you can stab it

And unexpected turn
That makes my stomach churn
I hope we both find
What it is that we yearn
I’m cutting out anything
that blocks my discern

Sorry if you find me
To be cold or stern
I’m often a mystery
Sometimes I’m subliminal

I’m find that this purpose
has kept me quite liminal
I hope for the best
While you give me the minimal

Forgive me if my words
Are seemingly cynical
You have me in an energy
I don’t yet understand
But I refuse this while
I stand on remand

A purposeful purpose
Got lost in the circus
When you find your truth
The love will resurface.
Cedric McClester Apr 2021
By: Cedric McClester

It isn’t a mere misnomer
That a Chinese immigrant
Haa been left
In a coma
After a vicious beating
Leaving a subdural hematoma
Which we hope doesn’t morph
Into an acute blastoma

Collecting bottles
Off  the street
Shouldn’t result
In anyone getting beat
For scraping a living
He caught the heat
Of a deranged individual
Who wanted raw meat

Was it a hate crime?
Who the hell knows
Why the immigrant caught
That many blows
The level of viciousness
Just goes to show
How far that perpertrator
Chose to go

What kind of evil
Lurks within the hearts of men?
Who would do such a thing
Where should we begin?
Was it his upbringing
Or then again
Was it the devil
Who committed the sin?








































Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2021.  All rights reserved.
Nekron Jan 2020
I’m to **** on my brothers couch
after passing out, what sort of loser at forty years old does that? I’ll say,
I come from a good family I’ll say.
This is my last bottle I’ll say
before it’s bought,
before it’s even 11 pm,
before I come up with an excuse of the death of my cousin months ago.

I’m to crush and indent my temple
upon the grey wash of the concrete at the bus stop,
in the dead of night, where no one will be to pick me up,
I’m to convulse from the subdermal hematoma,
I’m to lay out on the stretcher with my head above my heart to allow it to pool away from the cranium.
I’m to meet someone who says they loves me and doesn’t want me all the same,
I’m going to cry against them,
I’m to just hope they eat there words,

when someone said they’d be there for me,
when someone said I was worth their time,
When someone said I could trust them,
when someone waited for me so we could walk together.
Always rough draft. Will edit

— The End —